


Building Trust

by PhoenixSoul



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Developing Relationship, F/M, Genderbending, Genderswap, Pre-Avengers Movie, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixSoul/pseuds/PhoenixSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire Barton was sent to kill Nathaniel Romanova, but she made a different call.</p>
<p>It started with an act of mercy, but built into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay...this is the first time I've ever posted anything I've written, so I'm really nervous.
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy!

The first time Claire Barton had ever seen Nathaniel Romanova (other than the blurry photos in his file), was through a scope from a snowy rooftop in Moscow. After weeks of tracking the infamous Black Widower’s movements, Claire had finally managed to catch up to him, in Moscow, during winter…And fuck it all, she was freezing her ass off here.

  
   “Fuck this goddamn cold…” she practically growled to no one. “How the fuck do they expect me to shoot this guy if I can’t even feel my fingers?”  
  
    _Suck it up, Barton,_ came Coulson’s voice from the comm in her ear. _You’ve been in worse conditions than this before._ Claire sighed heavily and turned her attention back to her target.  
  
   “Hm. He’s pretty good looking,” she mused as she watched him glide effortlessly through the crowded streets.  
  
    _You’re not there to ogle him, Barton. You’re there to kill him,_ Coulson’s voice interrupted her thoughts again.  
  
   “Oh will you just shut up, Coulson? I’d like to talk to myself in peace,” she huffed, adjusting the sight again to busy herself while waiting for her mark to make a move. When he slipped into a back alley, she changed her position to get a better view. “Looks like he’s finally making his move…”  
  
    _Wait for it, Barton. Don’t get ahead of yourself._  
  
   “Yeah yeah. Quit nagging me, will ya?” Claire pressed the control switch on her bow, debating which arrow-head would be best for the kill. Her eyes followed his every move through her scope as her fingers twitched against the handle of her bow, waiting, for some kind of signal or sign, telling her it was time for the kill.  
  
   But the sign she got was not what she was expecting. She watched him for a few more moments, her eyes never leaving her mark when he suddenly turned and looked at her. He fucking looked right at her. How the fuck could he see her? She was on a goddamn roof, at least 100 feet away!  
  
   “No fucking way….” she said to herself, once again forgetting Coulson could hear everything she said. But this time she just tuned him out as she stared at her mark, and he stared right back at her. That was when she saw _it_ , the same glimmer of sadness, and hope and longing for death she had once had. And it hit her hard, hard enough that she lowered her bow.  
  
    _Barton! What the hell is going on there?! Answer me!_ The longer Claire stayed quiet, the angrier Coulson got, but she didn’t particularly care. All she cared about was this red-haired man she was supposed to kill, whose eyes asked her to kill him, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to finish her job.  
  
   “Coulson, I’m gonna try something…” and before he could protest, she pulled the comm out of her ear and shut it off. She knew she’d catch hell for it later, but she had to follow her gut on this one.  
  
   She kept her eyes locked on him until he made a break for it. Swearing under her breath she gathered her gear and made for the fire escape, practically sliding down the icy ladders. Once she reached the ground it took her sometime to pinpoint his location again.  
  
   “This would be so much easier if I could fucking jump from roof to roof…” she muttered as she pushed her way through the crowded street, finally spotting the mass of red hair of her target. She could almost swear he paused in the crowd to wait for her, but took off again before she could get close. “Oh hell no,” she nearly yelled as she followed the narrow and windy path he was taking.    
  
   As she chased him through the streets, she tweaked the controls on her bow, selecting an arrow-head, waiting to draw till she had a better vantage point to shoot from. She was not letting him get away from her. That look in his eyes when she was ready to take her shot reminded her so much of herself, when she was using her set of skills for less than favorable means.  
  
   When he ducked into a dead-end alley, she saw her chance to finally end this chase. Scanning her surroundings, she spotted a perfect place to shoot from, another fire escape. Attaching her bow to her quiver she hoisted herself up the hanging ladder, thankful for the acrobatic skills she’d learned from her years in the circus. Once she was up the escape, she pulled her bow back off her quiver and scanned the area for her mark again, quickly spotting his flaming red hair.      
  
   Tweaking the control on her bow again, she selected an arrow-head and nocked it, taking aim again. Her mark’s eyes were on her again, even as she fired, hitting the wall next to him. He looked at the arrow, then back at her, mouthing the words ‘You missed’. Claire just grinned and shook her head as the arrow exploded, releasing the net inside, entangling him in, ironically enough, a web. Claire wasted no time in gathering herself and hurrying down from the roof, making her way to the alley he was trapped in.  
  
   When she turned the corner she was greeted with the sight of him cutting himself from his bonds, but he stopped when she came up to him, glaring daggers at her. He cursed at her in Russian, or what she assumed was Russian, and swung his knife at her. She shook her head and easily avoided it.  
  
   “I could have killed you, ya know,” she spoke softly as she crouched down in front of him, slowly untangling the ropes from around him. He raised an eyebrow at her as she worked, noticing she seemed unafraid that she was right next to a deadly assassin. But then again, considering why she was there, that she was probably one too.  
  
   “So why didn’t you?” he asked, his Russian accent thick as he spoke, making her head pop up to look at him. She grinned a lop-sided grin as she finished removing the ropes, tossing them off to the side.  
  
   “There could be many reasons…” she mused as she sat back on her heels to better look him in the eyes while she explained. “Could be cause you’re handsome, could be cause I was bored and fucking cold on that rooftop. Or…” she paused for a moment, making sure he was fully paying attention before continuing, “or, It could be because you looked like you wanted me to kill you.” If that little factoid surprised him, she couldn’t tell. His face was a mask of stone.    
  
   “You wanted me to kill you, didn’t you?” Silence was her only reply. She sighed softly, but continued. “If you’re resigning yourself to death, you must be rather unhappy….”; she locked eyes with him, searching for the sign of life she had seen earlier. “Maybe I can help you without killing you…” she almost whispered, but it got his attention. He stared at her for the longest time, sizing her up.  
  
   “Help…me?” there was only the slightest hint of curiosity in his voice, making a small smirk curl on her lip.  
  
   “Yeah… You remind me of…someone I once knew, who was very much like you. And they were offered the same thing I’m offering you.”  
  
   “And what are you offering me?” he asked, making her grin widen a bit. Now, she could hear the interest in his voice.  
  
   “A second chance,” she replied, holding out her hand. “Take my hand, and I’ll take you with me. Away from this…” she gestured with her hands. He raised his eyebrow at her again.  
  
   “And if I say no?”  
  
   “Either I kill you like I was ordered or you kill me,” she shrugged a bit. “But neither of those options are very desirable.” He looked her over again, studying her face, trying to discern lie from truth.  
  
   “You were ordered to kill me, but are offering me this second chance?” He was truly puzzled. Never once had he questioned orders. Never had he even been given the chance to question them. She nodded.  
  
   “I‘ve never been good with following orders,” she said, and held out her hand again. “So what do you say?” He took what seemed like forever to Claire to make his decision. Slowly, hesitantly, he took her offered hand. She smiled from ear to ear and stood up, pulling him along with her. “Glad to have you aboard, Nathaniel Romanova.”  
  
   “So, you know my name. But I don’t know yours,” he stated. She laughed.  
  
   “Oh duh…That was kinda rude of me,” she grinned again. “The name’s Claire Barton. Master marksman,” she stated proudly. He had no reaction to that at all. She pursed her lips, deciding this was probably a good time to call for evac.  
  
   She fumbled around in one of the pockets of her coat, retrieving her comm and taking a deep breath. “This…is gonna suck...” She turned her comm back on, holding it away from her ear, waiting for Coulson to finish yelling at her before putting the earpiece back in, Nathan watching with mild interest.  
  
   “Coulson. I need evac, A.S.A.P.”  
  
    _Is the target neutralized?_  
  
   “Negative. The mark is coming with me.”  
  
    _Barton! What the hell are you thinking?! Your orders were to neutralize the target!_ Claire looked back at Nathan and smiled.  
  
   “I made a different call…”  
  
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
   The plane ride back to headquarters was unbearably quiet. While it was usually filled with Claire’s jokes or stories from past missions, today the air was heavy with uncomfortable silence. Claire sat in the back of the jet, her eyes closed, leaning against the wall, her arms tucked behind her head, humming a soft tune.  
  
   Coulson sat across from her, his arms crossed over his chest, and his foot tapping impatiently, as if waiting for her to explain herself, though he knew she wouldn’t until Fury got a hold of her.  
  
   Nathaniel sat next to Claire (she had insisted), eyes wandering around the jet, familiarizing himself with the weapons and people within. If things went south, which they usually did, he needed to have a back-up plan. A way out. Claire cracked open an eye, watching Nathan as his eyes darted around the jet. She almost wanted to laugh. It reminded her so much of when she first came to S.H.I.E.L.D. herself, acting the very same way, trusting no one. And she was sure the Agents in the back of the jet with them, with their hands hovering over their weapons didn’t make him feel any better.  
  
   Finally, the silence was broken by the ringing of Coulson’s cell phone. He took one look at the screen and sighed heavily. Claire cracked open one eye at that. He spoke in hushed tones, clasping the phone to his ear, but she could still tell who was bellowing (Well, most likely bellowing) on the other end. Director Fury. Of course Coulson had called in and told her about Claire’s _brilliant_ plan (Well, Claire thought it was brilliant). Coulson sighed again and with a ‘yes ma’am’, hung up the phone.  
  
   “Director wants you in her office as soon as we land,” Coulson stated as he looked at Claire with a gaze that could turn men to stone. Claire simply shrugged.  
  
   “I figured as much,” she replied, closing her eye again.  
  
   “And she wants him in a holding cell,” Coulson gestured towards Nathaniel as he spoke. At that, Claire’s eyes popped open and she sat up.  
  
   “What? Why? He’s not a prisoner,” she protested. Coulson sighed.  
  
   “That may be, but he’s still a threat,” he replied. Claire narrowed her eyes at him. “Barton, just because you’re trusting your gut with this one doesn’t mean it’s not gonna bite us all in the ass.” She huffed and crossed her arms.  
  
       “My gut has never been wrong about something like this, and you know it,” she shook her head. “He came of his own free will and I will not have him treated like a prisoner.”  
  
   “It’s just precautionary, Barton. You know the procedure.”  
  
   “It’s fine,” Nathaniel spoke up, effectively ending the argument. Claire and Coulson both stared at him for the longest time before returning to the positions they were in before and the silence resumed.  
  
   After the longest plane ride ever, (or so it seemed), they landed at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. As soon as the doors opened Nathaniel was ushered off to a holding cell; the agents escorting him being extra cautious due to their fear of him. And Coulson, with Claire in tow, made their way to Director Fury’s office.  
  
   “Sit down, Agent Barton,” Fury’s voice was already on edge when Coulson practically shoved Claire into the office, quickly shutting the door behind the two of them. Claire sat in the chair furthest away from Fury, and leaned back in it, waiting.  
  
   “Would you mind telling me exactly what the hell you were thinking, Agent Barton?!” Fury slammed her hands down on the table and Claire could swear she felt the floor move from the force.  
  
   “Well…” Claire began, taking a deep breath. “I was thinking that Nathaniel Romanova would be a valuable asset for Shield.”  
  
   “A valuable asset???” Claire swears she could see the vein on Fury’s forehead throb as she spoke. “You think an Agent of the Red Room would be a good asset?? Do you have any idea the kinds of things that man has done?”  
  
   “I seem to recall an Agent who had done a lot of the same things,” Claire stated, her face becoming impassive, almost impossible to read. Coulson’s eyebrow raised ever so slightly. “And that Agent got a second chance… Don’t you think Nathaniel Romanova should too?” Fury sighed.  
  
   “Barton…You can hardly compare yourself to that man.”  
  
   “With all due respect, ma’am, yes I can. I was in the same situation and offered the same choice. And look at me now. One of the top Agents of Shield,” she said, sitting up in her chair, crossing her arms.  Fury sighed again and squeezed the bridge of her nose between two fingers.  
  
   “Fine. You know what, Barton? You win,”; before Claire could even grin Fury added,  “But he’s _your_ responsibility. If he steps out of line, causes any trouble, it’s your ass.”  
  
   “Yes, ma’am.” Fury could actually hear the smug satisfaction in Claire’s voice.  
  
   “You are not to leave his side for any amount of time. He will share your room with you, train with you and you are banned from missions until I see that he truly is an asset and not a threat.” Now Fury had the sense of satisfaction when Claire’s grin faded away.  
  
   “Anything else, ma’am?” Claire tried not to grit her teeth as she spoke.  
  
   “You’re to take him to have the mandatory physical and psych evaluation.” Claire fought not to cringe at that. “Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind,” she didn’t have to tell Claire twice. Before Fury could even finish her sentence, Claire was up and out the door, making a beeline for the holding cells a few floors down.  
  
   When she got to the holding cells it was if all hell had broken loose. She couldn’t even see Nathaniel’s cell through all the agents gathered there, weapons drawn.  
  
   “Hey, hey, HEY!” she yelled, getting the attention of everyone there. “What in the hell is going on here?” As a reply the agents parted, allowing her to walk through to the cell. There stood Nathaniel, his arm around an agent’s throat, choking the life out of him. “What the hell?!” One of the agents spoke up.  
  
       “Agent Robins was simply trying to confiscate all of the prisoner’s weapons. Once he took that knife…” he explained, pointing to the knife in Agent Robins’ hand. “The prisoner went nuts and this happened.” Claire shook her head and took a few steps closer to the cell.  
  
   “Agent Robins….give the knife back,” she stated calmly, tapping her foot lightly. Agent Robins slowly lifted the knife, putting it back in Nathan’s reach. Without a word Nathan released the frightened Agent, reclaiming his knife and strapping it back to his hip. Claire watched as Robins scrambled to his feet, rushing out of the cell, then she turned and addressed the other Agents. “Nathaniel Romanova is _NOT_ a prisoner. Effective immediately he is under _my_ protection until he is sworn in as a Shield agent. Meaning, you fuck with him, you answer to me. Got it?” Nathan raised an eyebrow, watching as the gather agents visibly paled as Claire spoke before nodding and leaving the holding cell.  
  
   “They fear you,” came from Nathaniel, more of a statement then a question.  
  
   “No,” Claire replied, “they respect me and know not to fuck with me.”  
  
   “Fear, respect. It’s the same thing.” Claire shook her head.  
  
   “It’s not the same. Now c’mon. Let me show you to our room,” she said and started out the door. Nathan stood there for a moment, processing her statement.  
     
   “ _Our_ room?” He asked, following along behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started with an act of mercy, but built into something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter, so I apologize for that.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

    Nathaniel’s first month at S.H.I.E.L.D. was probably one of the hardest months he could remember. The psych visits and physical exams weren’t so bad, but the withdrawal from whatever concoction the Red Room injected with them every day was hell. Claire was woken up almost every night by his tossing and turning and the noises of discomfort he made.   
  
   The fifth night, she sat up, sliding to the side of her bed, watching him toss about, feeling a pang of guilt in her gut. She was the reason he was like this. She took him away from his old life and brought him into this one, without really thinking about the pain it might cause him. After watching him for a moment more she got up and padded into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth with cool water.  
  
   When she reentered the room she headed straight for his bed, carefully sitting on the edge so as to not wake him. She gently laid her hand on his head, frowning at the high temperature of his skin. She knew this would happen. Withdrawal from any kind of drug would bring about a fever this high.  Delicately, still trying not to wake him, she laid the cloth across his head, smoothing the cool fabric against his heated skin. Slowly, his tossing calmed down and after a few cloth changes, his temperature finally returned to normal. And this was how it went, every night. Claire stayed awake, cooling his fever, helping in the only way she could.   
  
   It was on the tenth night that Nathaniel caught her. His usual nightmares plagued him as they had been for almost two weeks, but yet, almost too real this time. When he felt the cool hand on his forehead his eyes snapped open, his body reacting before he could even think, his hand striking out, grabbing hold of the throat of the owner of that hand.  
  
   Claire tried to swallow as Nathaniel’s fingers tightened around her throat, cutting off her air supply. Despite the sense of panic trying to seize her, she kept herself calm, being patient and waiting for him to fully wake up. She was, above all, patient.  
  
   Nathaniel blinked once, twice and a third time, the room slowly coming into focus. He felt the warmth of another person’s skin in his hand. His gaze moved to see Claire, her face composed despite his hand squeezing her throat. As soon as he realized what he was doing he released her from his grasp, watching as she stopped herself from gasping, settling on taking several deep breaths.  
  
   “Barton…what in the hell were you--”  
  
   “Sorry,” she rasped, cutting him off. “You’ve had a fever…. I was only trying to help…” She rubbed her throat carefully, soothing the ache. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you…” He watched her rub her neck for a few moments before reaching out, barely brushing his fingers over the red marks on her neck. She shivered slightly at his touch, resisting the urge to pull away.  
  
   “I… _I’m_ sorry…” he barely whispered. Claire blinked a few times, unable to believe what she just heard.  
  
   “It was almost worth being choked to hear you say that,” she said with a grin. Nathan narrowed his eyes at her. “Oh, lighten up. It’s progress.”  
  
   “Progress?”  
  
   “Yeah, progress. As in, the more progress you make, the quicker Fury will let me take you out of here to explore the city,” Claire could swear she saw anticipation in Nathan’s eyes. “Anyway..” she stood up from his bed and stretched. “We should both get back to bed,” she gave him a smile before starting over to her bed. He reached out as she passed by, his hand barely touching hers.  
  
   “Thanks… for…” he motions to the washcloth.  
     
   “Hey, no problem. You’d do the same for me,” she plopped down on her bed giving him another smile before crawling under the sheets. “Night.”  
  
   “…goodnight…” he laid there for the longest while, staring at the ceiling, stealing glances over at her every so often, replaying the words _You’d do the same for me_. over and over in his head. As his eye closed his finally thought before slipping back to sleep was, yeah, he would do it for her too.  
  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
   It took Nathaniel a full month to fully detox from The Red Room’s cocktail injections and another month after that for the nightmares to stop. But the whole time Claire stood by him, helping him when he’d allow it, and backing off when he didn’t. She was a master of patience; she had to be with her job.  
  
   And she needed all the patience she could get. It took her what seemed like forever to convince him that no one there, herself included, was going to try and kill him in his sleep. She had to constantly wait for him to fall asleep before she felt she could even think about sleeping.  
  
   He found it easier to walk around the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters with Claire when he wasn’t so sure that an agent wouldn’t jump him as soon as they rounded the corner. Claire kept up a constant chatter as they walked, pointing out this room and that, but at this point, he didn’t really care. That is, until he heard her say ‘shooting range’. He stopped behind her when they reached that door, nearly running into her as she turned around.  
  
   “Wanna go in?” she asked, smiling up at him with that lop-sided grin of hers. He actually found himself enjoying that crooked smile. Though he would never admit it. He looked from the door to her and back again. “C’mon,” she nodded her head toward the door.   
  
   “Alright,” he replied, trying to feign disinterest as he followed her in. If he were a lesser person, not trained as he was, his eyes would’ve practically sparkled at the sight of this room. Guns of every kind lined half of the back wall, with the other half full of various other ranged weapons. Most notably, bows, Claire’s weapon of choice.  
  
   “Pick your favorite,” Claire said, breaking him out of his stupor as she stepped up a small ladder to pull down a case with a large red label, reading ‘Property of Claire Barton. Touch and DIE’. He almost wanted to laugh at that. Claire noticed him looking at the label on her bow case. “Yeah...It’s silly,” she admitted. “I put it on there years ago and just never took it off.” He nodded his understanding and decided to leave it at that.   
  
   “Won’t your Director be upset if she finds out you brought me here?” Claire could only laugh.  
  
   “Probably. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” she grinned at him as she pulled her bow out, snapping it into position with one quick move. She tested the pull of the string a few times before gathering a few practice arrows and moving into one of the lanes. With speed and grace he almost envied she nocked an arrow and let it loose, it making a ‘thunk’ sound as it hit the center of the target.  
  
   “Not bad,” he said as he snapped an ammo clip in one of the guns from the wall.  
  
   “Thanks. Years of practice,” she grinned, trying her best not to sound proud. After she shot a few more arrows (All of them, of course, hitting the center), she turned to watch him. His movements were so fluid, so precise, she found herself in awe of his skills. Then she noticed it. For the first time, since he had come here, he looked relaxed, almost like he was enjoying himself. She leaned against the wall, smiling to herself as he emptied the clip into the target at the end of the range.  
  
   “Feel better?” she asked once he set the gun down on the nearby table. He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow. Before he can even ask what she meant, she answered, “you looked stressed. I thought this might help.” Nathaniel stared at her while she put her bow back in it’s case. He couldn’t figured out how this woman, this strange, _strange_ woman could read him so well. He always prided himself on being stoic and unreadable, but he didn’t seem to be able to hide anything from her. It almost frightened him. “So?” her voice broke his chain of thought.   
  
   “Yeah. I feel better,” he inclined his head to her in thanks. She smiled in return.  
  
   “I’m glad. Now, let’s get out of here before Fury kicks my ass,” she said with a laugh, heading for the door. He followed her out of the shooting range, a slight smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started with an act of mercy, but built into something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone reading this is still enjoying!

    When Fury finally, _finally_ , gave Claire permission to take Nathaniel out into the city (with no weapons allowed of course), she practically leapt out of her chair. She was absolutely stir-crazy (and was pretty sure Nathaniel was too). She was barely listening to the rest of Fury’s speech ( _your responsibility_ this and _your ass_ that, nothing she wasn’t used to), instead, going through a list of all the places she was going to take Nathaniel. Places she thought she could take him that they would both enjoy.

 

   “Barton!” Fury’s booming voice brought Claire out of her daydreaming. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?!” She drummed her fingers on the table, waiting for Claire to answer.

 

   “Of course I have,” Claire replied as she stood. Nathaniel, who had been sitting quietly next to her the entire time, stood with her.  “And if that’s all, we’ve got places to be,” she said as she turned and headed for the door, Nathaniel following behind her.

 

   “If anything goes wrong, Barton--”

 

    _Yeah, yeah. You’ll have my ass. I’ve heard it before_ , she thought to herself, but answered with, “yes ma’am. I know.”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


   The first step she took out of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Claire took a deep breath, letting it out dramatically.

 

   “Ahhh…. Fresh air. Six months cooped up is seriously too long,” she grinned from ear to ear, turning to face Nathaniel. His eyes were darting around at the people passing by, his hands twitching at his side, seeking out a weapon. “Hey,” she said, carefully laying her hand on his forearm, bringing his attention back to her, “it’s okay.” His brows knit together for a brief moment when he looked at her, but then returned to normal before she could really notice.

 

   “Yeah…” he said quietly. She grinned at him.

 

   “I’m not a big fan of crowds myself,” she said, somehow able to read him again. She nudged him arm a bit, to get him to walk along with her through the crowds. She kept her hand lightly on his arm, guiding his attention to her rather than the people passing by. For some reason, that made him feel grateful to her.

 

   “Where are we going?” he asked, trying to ignore the various people constantly bumping into him.

 

   “You’ll see,” she said with a wide grin on her face. She maneuvered through the crowd with ease that came from many years of practice.

 

   She lead him through the city streets, their destination clear in her mind as she rounded the corner, stopping briefly in front of the entrance to Central Park.

 

   “A park?” he asked. She could only laugh.

 

   “Our destination is _inside_ the park,” she said, then laid her hand on his arm again, leading him through the bustling park. He looked around as they walked through the park, watching the families and couples, the normal people living their normal lives. Something he’d never been allowed to do. She glanced at him every now and then as they walked; his face had a look of child-like wonder that pulled at her heart. She had read about the Red Room and what they did to people, training them from when they were very young to be heartless killing machines. She wondered what he had missed out on because of them.

 

   “Barton,” he said, breaking her train of thought.

 

   “Huh? Yeah?” she shook her head to clear her thoughts then looked up at him.

 

   “You seem to be unfocused,” he stated.

 

   “Just…kinda thinking…” she replied, then turned her attention back in front of them, eyes scanning for their destination. “Aha!” she practically shouted as she spotted the ice skating rink up ahead. She remembered she had asked him once if he had ever been, since he was Russian and all, but was disappointed when he had said he hadn’t. “C’mon,” she said, giving his arm the slightest of tugs towards the line for renting skates.

 

   “Ice skating?” he inquired, his voice giving a minuscule hint of curiosity.

 

   “Yeah!” She beamed. “It’s so much fun!” She ushered him off to the side of the line. “Wait here a sec,” she requested then hurried to the front of the line. He watched as she leaned on the counter, exchanging a few words with the clerk there. He was fascinated by how well she was able to handle people. She was an assassin, but was talking with the man renting the skates as if she had no blood on her hands. He wondered how she did that.

 

   She came back a few minutes later, carrying two pairs of skates, and grinning from ear to ear. She held out the larger pair to him.

 

   “Here ya go,” she beamed as he took the skates from her.

 

   “How did you get these so fast?”

 

   “The guy running the booth owed me a favor,” her grin grew even wider as she lead him over to one of the benches by the ice, “C’mon. Let’s get our skates on and get on the ice.” She plopped down on the bench, quickly pulling off her boots and replacing them with the ice skates. She stood up just as he sat down, carefully making her way to the rink. “Don’t be too long, okay?” She shot him another grin before gliding out onto the ice.

 

   As he replaced his own shoes with the skates he watched Claire skating around the other people on the rink. She glided around gracefully a while more before coming back to the edge of the rink.

 

   “Ready?” she asked with a smile. He nodded in reply and shakily stood up. She couldn’t help but chuckle as he made his way to the ice slowly. “Want some help?” she held out her hand to him. He glanced down at her hand then shook his head. She shrugged. “Okay,” she slid back a bit, waiting for him to step onto the ice.

 

   He took one step onto the ice, sliding forward a bit before falling back on his ass. Claire bit her lip to keep from laughing. He glared up at her but she just answered with a smile, holding out her hand again. This time he smacked it away. She slid back a little, waiting quietly for him to try (and fall) again. She didn’t laugh the second time he fell. Instead, she held out her hand to him again.

 

   “Hey…it’s okay to ask for help when you need it.”

 

   “I was trained--” he began. She shook her head.

 

   “You’re not with them anymore,” she smiled softly, “you’re not alone anymore.” He looked up at her, the features on his face softening a little. He reached up and took her hand. With a grin, she help him pull himself back up, “Come on. I’ll teach you how to skate.” A small smile tugged on the corner of his mouth as she gently pulled him along. He noted how she didn’t ask him why he didn’t know how to skate, or judged him for falling time and time again. She just always reached out her hand to help him up, being as patient as she always is.

 

   “You’re doing really well,” she beamed as he slowly skated across the ice. She took hold of his arm when he started to wobble slightly, “See? Isn’t this fun?” He nodded, keeping his gaze down on his feet, concentrating on keeping himself steady. She had to chuckle at the serious look of concentration on his face.

 

   “This is actually….enjoyable…” he muttered under his breath as she let go of his arms, letting him do it on his own.

 

   It didn’t take Nathaniel long to get the hang of it, and soon, he was gliding across the ice along side of Claire, albeit, not as gracefully as her. She skated to the edge of the rink and leaned back against the railing to watch him. He was skating around now without wobbling at all and she felt an odd sense of pride surging within her. Watching him, she believed he was actually enjoying himself, and that made her wonder if he’d everhad any enjoyment in his life before this.

 

   Before she knew it the other skaters began filing out of the rink, lining up to return their skates. She glanced down at her watch, swearing under her breath at the time. She had meant to take him to some other spots around the city, but they’d have to wait till another time. She figured it would be best to get him back to HQ before it got too late; she didn’t want Fury to get on her case. She waved her arm at Nathaniel, beckoning him to her so they could get back.

 

   “Well? What did you think?” she asked as they sat down on a bench to remove their skates.

 

   “It was… unexpectedly… _fun_...I suppose...” Getting him to admit that was almost as hard as pulling teeth. Almost.

 

   “I’m glad to hear that,” she responded as she stood, taking his skates from him, “next time I’ll take you more places, but for tonight, we probably need to get back.” He nodded his agreement and followed her to return the skates.

 

   “Thanks, Barton…” he muttered, almost too quietly for her to hear. She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him, a smile curling on her lips.

 

   “You’re welcome,” she replied, laying her hand on his arm to lead him back through the city. “Oh! I know! Next time we’ll go to a Broadway play!”

 

His eyebrow shot up. “A play? Really?”

 

She just laughed as they made their way down the street.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


   “Due to the success of your outing with Mr. Romanova, I have decided that I will grant you clearance to return to your apartment while you are still on leave from missions,” Fury’s voice echoedin her office. Nathaniel looked over at Claire, who was practically drooling over the good news. “And of course, your duty of keeping an eye on Mr. Romanova doesn’t end. He’ll be staying with you there. And as always--”

 

   “Yeah yeah. I know. If he does anything, blah blah blah, it’ll be my ass, blah blah,” Claire was far too happy to even think about the consequences of talking back to Fury. 

 

   “Barton…” Fury almost growled her warning to the archer. Claire didn’t even seem to notice. Nathaniel shook his head slightly, fighting the urge to laugh at the bouncy woman beside him.  Fury sighed when her threatening glare didn’t even faze Claire. “Alright. Barton. Romanova. You two are dismissed.” Claire nearly leapt out of her chair, dragging Nathaniel behind her back to their room at HQ.

 

   “You seem excited,” Nathaniel stated as Claire bounced around the room, gathering a few personal items from drawers here and there.

 

   “Of course I am!” she was grinning from ear to ear when she threw her bag onto her shoulder, “My apartment is great!” She strolled out of the room, humming happily  as they made their way down to the garage where Coulson was waiting with keys to one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. cars.

 

   “Not a scratch, Barton. Fury’s orders,” he stated as he handed her the keys. She scowled and snatched the keys.

 

   “Please, Coulson. When have I ever scratched a car---” she paused in the middle of her sentence. “Don’t answer that.” Coulson could only smirk at her.

 

   “Behave yourselves,” Coulson warned as the two of them slid into the car. Claire just waved him off as she started the engine, then peeled out of the garage.

 

   Nathaniel found out exactly why Coulson was so worried about Claire getting a scratch on the car. Claire drove like a bat out of hell, and Nathaniel wasn’t sure if it was a thrilling or terrifying. He opted for terrifying when they pulled into New York traffic. She was weaving through the lanes, fitting into gaps that their car shouldn’t have been able to fit into, and ignoring the traffic signs (mostly). He was extremely grateful when she finally brought the car to a stop in the parking lot of an old apartment building.

 

   “We’re here,” she chirped happily, not noticing the glare he shot her as she stepped out of the car. He surveyed the building  while he followed her inside. It was old, and a little worn, but well taken care of. The elevator inside was a little dubious to him, but she assured him it was perfectly safe.

 

   On the top floor of the building there was only one apartment, which Claire proudly announced was hers.

 

   “I’m not that big on neighbors,” she stated, putting her key into the lock, “I actually had to fight another Agent for this place.” She grinned. “And of course I won.” She opened the door and let him step inside first before following him, shutting the door behind them. Her apartment was much smaller than he had expected, with the way she was going on about it. She tossed her bag on the couch and took a deep breath. “Home sweet home,” she proclaimed.

 

   “It’s rather…. Small...” he kept judgment out of his voice so he didn’t offend her. “How exactly is this “great”?” She laughed softly.

 

   “C’mere. I’ll show you,” she beckoned him over to the curtain covered window on the other side of the room. Once he stood beside her she wrenched open the curtains, letting the sunshine pour in. “ _This_ is why I love my apartment so much,” she announced as she lead him out the door there and onto the balcony. Now he understood why she loved it so much. Whatever was lacking on the inside, was made up for by the view from the balcony. He could swear you could see almost all of the city (even if that was impossible) from her balcony.

 

   “I understand why you like it here,” he said with an approving nod. She smiled at him and made her way to the edge, looking out at the city.

 

   “I feel at ease in high places where I can see my surroundings…” she stated, running a hand through her hair. He studied her as she stood there, noting the absolute sense of calm and tranquility she was admitting. She didn’t look like an assassin, or a spy; no. Here, she was just a woman. A very attractive woman, his subconscious added. He quickly dismissed that thought.

 

   “Right then,” she said, snapping his thoughts back to normal, “just make yourself at home.” She gave him that lopsided grin and then padded back inside. She made a beeline for her fridge, grinning again when she opened up. “I gotta remember to thank Coulson for having food delivered later,” she closed the fridge door, then made her way to the couch, plopping down on it. He joined her a moment later.

 

   “Ah… It’s good to be home,” she stated happily.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started with an act of mercy, but built into something more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it has taken me so long to post this! Life can be such a bitch sometimes.... But I'm back and I'll be posting the rest of the chapters soon!

Nathaniel was woken up by the same thing he had been woken up by for the month: the sound of the shower running and Claire singing at the top of her lungs. He sat up in her bed (which she graciously let him use, stating her couch was more comfortable for her anyway), listening to her sing some song he didn’t know. He actually found that he enjoyed listening to her sing. She had a rather wonderful singing voice, and for some reason, it made him feel at ease. She came out of the bathroom a while later, wearing a robe and drying her hair with a towel.

 

   “Hey! Good morning!” she beamed at him as she walked through her bedroom towards her closet.

 

   “Morning,” he replied, stretching as he slipped out of bed.

 

   “Go ahead and grab a shower. Fury wants us in her office later this morning,” she explained. He nodded before padding to the bathroom.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

   “After much deliberation, taking into account Mr. Romanova’s good behavior during his stay with Agent Barton, I have decided to allow him to accompany Barton on a mission to assess his value to Shield,” Fury announced to the room. Claire’s jaw nearly dropped at the same time as Nathaniel’s eyebrows shot up. Coulson just crossed his arms and nodded, appearing, for the most part, unimpressed.

“You two will be deployed this afternoon,” Fury said, sliding two folders across the table to Nathaniel and Claire, “Barton, take him down, arm him, and brief him on how we do things.”

 

   “Yes ma’am,” Claire said, actually saluting Fury as she stood. Nathaniel followed suit, though he didn’t salute.

 

   “Dismissed. Be ready at 13:00. Coulson will be your handler,” Fury stated. Claire nodded and led the way out of the room. Nathaniel noticed the change in her attitude almost immediately. Instead of the fun-loving, sarcastic woman he’d been getting to know,  she was serious and focused, mentally preparing herself for the job at hand.

 

   “This should be a rather easy job,” Claire said, flipping through the file as they walked, “Busting a drug smuggling ring, fairly routine.”

 

   “Just the two of us?” Nathaniel asked, skimming over the file himself. She shook her head.

 

   “We’ll be paired with Strike Team Alpha. Unless they’ve changed Agents since I last worked with them, they’re not a bad unit.”

 

They rounded a corner, pushing through the door to the Armory. “Arm yourself with whatever you think you’ll need,”  she instructed, giving him a small smile to reassure him that the normal Claire was still there, too. But then it was gone, and she was moving quickly, stepping into the locker room next door and changing into her tactical suit. “There’s a suit for you in the locker room,” she stated when she came back into the room.

 

   “Thanks,” he said, inclining his head towards her before going to change as well.

 

When he came back she had her bow case sitting on the table and was strapping several knives to her thighs. He followed suit, picking out a few Glocks, strapping extra ammo to himself, tucking in a knife here and there. She chuckled under her breath at him, but didn’t say anything.

 

   “Ready?” she asked, sliding on her quiver, then picking up her bow case. He nodded as he snapped a clip into one of the Glocks. “Good. Let’s go meet up with Coulson.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

   At 13:00, Claire, Nathaniel, and Coulson met up with the Strike Team Alpha in the back of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Quinjets. Coulson was reading over the  mission specs while Nathan double-checked his guns and Claire snapped her bow out, testing the pull.

 

   “As most of you know, Hawkeye will be team leader,” Coulson stated, obtaining a groan from one of the junior agents. “Something you’d like to add, Agent Williams?” he asked, glaring in the general direction of the groan.

 

   “Sir. With all due respect, why are you putting a woman in charge?” he asked, a challenge in his voice. Claire’s head snapped up as the rest of Alpha squad slid away from Agent Williams.

 

   “Excuse me?” Claire growled. There was a collective holding of breath in the back of the jet.

 

   “Look , I don’t answer to no woman,” Williams replied staunchly. Nathaniel looked over at Claire, noting the burning anger in her eyes.

 

   “Listen, buster," Claire said, her voice deadly calm. “After Coulson, I am the most senior agent here. I _am_ the team leader. So you _will_ listen to me or you will regret it.”

 

There wasn’t any hint of an idle threat in her voice. Every agent there knew she meant what she said. With a few words and a withering glare from some of the other agents, Williams backed down, saying nothing else. After a few moments of awkward silence, Coulson began speaking again.

 

   “When we arrive, Hawkeye will take her vantage point outside the warehouse. Strike team, you’ll surround the building. And our point will be…”

 

   “Me,” Nathaniel volunteered. Claire nodded in agreement.

 

   “You sure, Romanova?” Coulson inquired. Claire nodded.

 

   “He can do it," she said. "I’ve seen what he can do. He’s more than capable.”

 

   “Alright. You all heard. Black Widower is point,” Coulson ordered. Claire chuckled as the men in the jet paled at Nathaniel’s code name. From the cockpit, the pilot gave the signal that they were nearing their destination.

 

   “Alright, people. Lock and load. Remember to keep your comms on at all times,” Claire almost barked the orders. All the men gave an affirmative noise (except for Williams).

 

   Within minutes of landing, Claire, Nathaniel and their team were in their positions, Claire checking everyone’s locations through her scope.

 

   They waited for at least an hour, spotting no movement, seeing nothing at all.

 

   “I don’t like this, Coulson… It’s too fucking quiet.” Claire scanned the interior of the warehouse, noting the lack of guards, or anyone for that matter.

 

    _Just give it time, Hawk,_ Coulson tried to reassure her, despite his feeling of dread.

 

   “How about you, Widower?” Claire shifted her position to capture Nathan in her scope.

 

    _Negative. I agree with Hawkeye. This doesn’t sit well_ , Nathaniel’s eyes darted around his surroundings as he spoke into his comm. Claire moved her scope around, looking for signs of movement.

 

   “Everyone….remain in position…“ she paused, looking around again. “This isn’t right…This has to be--Fuck!” she growled as she spotted Williams out of the corner of her eye, moving around the side of the building. “Williams! What the fuck are you doing?!”

He didn’t answer. She watched through her scope as Williams pulled his comm out, throwing it on the ground. “Son of a-- Coulson! Williams is leaving his post! He has removed his comm! He’s looking for a way in!”

 

    _Damnit! He’s gonna blow the entire operation!_

 

   “Call it, Coulson. I’ll take him down, but you have to call it,” Claire stated somberly, already drawing her bow.

 

    _Negative, Hawk. You are not to take down a fellow agent._

 

   “Fuck!” she she hissed under her breath as Williams slipped into the building. “Damnit! He’s inside!” Claire adjusted her scope again, keeping an eye on Williams as he snuck into the warehouse, searching through the crates. “Shit shit shit…” she growled, glaring daggers at Williams through her scope. She watched in fury, then in horror as  the trap her gut had been telling her was coming was sprung. “Fuck! I knew this was wrong! Coulson, this was a set-up. Williams is in deep shit.”

 

    _I’ve got this, Hawkeye,_ came Nathaniel’s voice, before Coulson could say anything.

 

   “Widower…You can’t--”

 

    _Don’t worry. I won’t kill him,_ he responded before she could even finish, then the comms went silent. Claire shifted the sight of her scope to Nathaniel, who was leading the rest of Alpha team into the building. She listened to him giving orders to the other agents, feeling oddly proud of this man who not too long ago she had been sent to kill.

 

   “Nathaniel…” she spoke without thinking, dropping his codename. “Try and lead them outside. I’ll take them out.” His comm was silent for a moment before he answered.

 

    _Roger._ And that was it. She waited nervously for something, anything to happen. She didn’t have to wait long.

 

   As soon as she heard the gunfire inside, Claire whipped into action, drawing her bow and releasing it, letting the arrow fly through the window to lodge itself in the chest of one of the smugglers.

 

    _Nice shot,_ Nathaniel’s voice praised her through the comm, but she tucked that away for later, focused on lining up her next shot.

 

   Inside, Nathaniel did his best to direct the men in the fight, making his way to where the injured Williams laid. As he moved, arrows soared through the window, taking out any of his would-be attackers. Knowing she had his back in this, made him feel strangely comforted.

 

   “Got him,” he called to Claire over the comm. He could hear her breath a sigh of relief even as another arrow sunk into the neck of another smuggler.

 

    _Good. Now get your asses out of there. Coulson’s got evac on the way,_  He grabbed Williams by the collar, dragging him out of the building as he fired on their attackers. He made motions to the other men to follow him out, handed over Williams to one of the others so he could provide cover fire.

 

   Claire watched as Alpha team filed out of the building, carrying the injured Williams. She growled under her breath, sorely tempted to end the fucker right then and there, but she restrained herself.

 

   “C’mon, Nathaniel. Get the hell out of there…” she muttered, scanning the building for him. As soon as she spotted him heading for the door, she tweaked the switch on her bow, attaching the explosive arrowhead to an arrow and quickly nocking it. Once he was out of the way, she shot it inside, detonating it in front of what was left of the pursuers. The fire spread quickly to the wooden crates filling the building, but she paid it no attention as she came down from her perch to join her teammates.

 

   “Everyone present and accounted for?”

 

All of them replied with a groan, except Nathaniel and Williams. Nathan nodded to her as he replaced the clips in his Glocks. Williams could only look up at her. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she drew back her fist, punching him square in the jaw. “You are so lucky I didn’t fucking kill you!” she growled through her teeth.

 

   Before she could get anything else out, Coulson showed up in the quinjet. “Everyone in,” he ordered. “I wanna get the hell out of here.” She followed behind the Alpha team, slumping down in one of the seats, barely registering when Nathaniel sat beside her.

 

   “Hey,” he said, getting her attention. She turned her head to look at him. “You did good,” he gave her a slight nudge as he spoke. That small bit of praise made a slight smile curl on her lips.

 

   “Thanks,” she said with a grin, “So did you.” And that little exchange almost made them want to laugh, melting some of the tension from that night as the jet took off.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

   “Someone want to tell me what the fuck went on?!” Fury’s voice carried through the halls by her office.

 

   “Ma’am, if I may--”

 

   “Shut the fuck up, Williams! I’ll get to you soon enough!” Fury snarled. Williams shrank back in his seat. Fury whirled around.

“Coulson. Talk,” she growled as she sat down, glaring at everyone in the room. Claire and Nathaniel remained quiet as Coulson stood and cleared his throat.

 

   “Ma’am. It seems that our intel was inaccurate. The warehouse was not for storage for the drugs as we were lead to believe, but it was a setup. Agent Barton and Romanova both had a bad feeling about the situation. The orders for the Strike Team Alpha were to hold their position until we could assess the situation better. But Williams took it upon himself to enter the building and jeopardize the entire mission. If it wasn’t for Agent Barton and Mr. Romanova, Williams would probably be dead right now.” When he finished talking, Coulson sat back down. Claire glanced over at Coulson, giving him a nod of thanks.

 

   “So. Williams. Care to explain why you thought it was a good idea to disobey orders?” Fury asked, her eye narrowing at the very obviously nervous Agent. “I’m waiting,” she drummed her fingers on the table, waiting for a response.

 

   “With all due respect,  Agent Barton hardly seems qualified to lead a mission,” he explained shakingly. Claire’s eye visibly twitched.

 

“Agent Barton is a senior agent and has been on more missions than most any agent here,” Fury retorted, crossing her arms. “So what makes you think she’s not qualified?”

 

“Just look at her. She’s, she’s... She’s a woman!” he blurted out before being able to stop himself.

 

“So. Williams. What exactly is your problem with women?” Fury asked, her voice on edge.

 

“I--” Before he could even really begin, Fury stood, slamming her hand on the table.

 

   “Know what? I don’t care. The only thing I care about in this is your insubordination!” Williams visibly paled. “You were given a direct order and you chose to ignore it. I don’t need Agents who won’t follow orders from their superiors, whether they be women or men,” Fury narrowed her eye at the fidgeting Williams. “You are dismissed, Williams. From the room, from your position here at Shield. Gather your personal belongs and prepare to be debriefed.” Williams could only nod somberly as he stood and hung his head as he was escorted out by a senior Agent.

 

   “Now… For you two,” Fury stated, turning her gaze to Nathaniel and Claire. Neither of them moved or made a sound. Claire expected her ass to get handed to her since she was the team leader. “According to Coulson’s report, the two of you performed quite well, considering the situation...”

 

“Oh thank god,” Claire muttered to herself, letting out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

 

“And you Mr. Romanova….” Fury picked up a file on the table as she spoke. “Volunteering to take point, saving Mr. Williams life even after he endangered the entire mission, working well with Agent Barton…” she said, setting the file back down. “Taking these things into consideration, I think it’s safe to say we could use your skills here at Shield.” Claire glanced over at Nathaniel, a small smile playing on her lips. She knew her gut had been right about him from the beginning. “Now, you and your partner will be monitored--”

 

   “Partner?” Nathaniel inquired. Claire’s smile faded. She had forgotten about this part.

 

   “Yes. Every Shield field Agent is assigned a partner,” Fury explained. Claire felt a lump growing in the pit of her stomach, though she didn’t know why. “I’ll have you a partner assigned as soon as I can. Until then, I’m going to have you continue to accompany Agent Barton on her missions,” she drummed her fingers on the table, “now get out of my office. I have work to do.” Claire and Nathaniel stood up, nodded to Fury.

 

Before leaving the room, Nathaniel turned to Fury, clearing his throat to gain her attention again.

 

“Something to add, Agent?” Fury asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

 

“If I may, ma’am,” he began, “I would like to make a small change.” Claire and Fury watched Nathaniel, unsure of where this was heading.

 

“And what change would that be?” Fury inquired.

 

“Seeing as I have gained a new identity here at Shield, I have decided to leave behind my old name as well,” Nathaniel replied.

 

“And what name will you be going by?” Fury asked.

 

“Nathan Romanov,” he responded. “It’s only a slight change, but I think it will do.” Claire looked at him and smiled slightly.

 

“I like it,” she said, nodding her head acceptingly. Fury nodded as well.

 

“So do I,” Fury agreed. “Very well. Your file will be updated with your new name.”

 

“Thank you ma’am,” Nathan said and turned back around to face Claire, finally ready to leave. As they left, Claire looked over her shoulder, watching Coulson speaking to Fury before the door closed.

 

“So… Congrats,” Claire said with a smile, opening her door, “Fury must have been really impressed with you today.”

 

   “Apparently so,” Nathan responded, sitting on the edge of his bed.

 

   “I guess until she assigns you a partner you’ll continue to stay with me,” she stated, plopping down on her bed. He nodded in reply. “Just try not to kill whoever you get,” she laughed. He almost laughed with her.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Three Months Later

 

   Claire and Nathan had just gotten back from another mission (an exceptionally idiotic one if anyone asked Claire), when they were called to Fury’s office. Coulson waited in the doorway, tapping his foot.

 

   “Fuck,” Claire muttered before lifting her head up from her pillow. “We _just_ got back. Can this not wait till morning at least?” she grumbled and hauled herself out of the bed, glaring at Coulson.

 

   “She wants to see both of you now. Apparently she’s come to a decision about Agent Romanov’s partner.” Both Claire and Nathan’s heads shot up.

 

   “Oh…” Claire swallowed hard, wondering why all of a sudden she had a lump in her stomach. “Then what do you need me for?” Coulson shrugged.

 

   “I’m just following orders,” he replied. Claire sighed as she stood up, stretching a bit, watching out of the corner of her eye as Nathan did the same.

 

   “Let’s not keep her waiting then,” Nathan stated, making his way out the door. Claire and Coulson followed after him.

 

   As soon as they arrived at Fury’s office, they noticed the stack of personnel files sitting on the table. The lump in Claire’s stomach did a summersault, but she just shook it off.

 

   “Sit down Agents,” Fury commanded and they complied without a word. “Alright then. I have spent much time going over every personnel file in Shield’s database, and I have not been able to find a suitable partner for Agent Romanov,” she paused for a moment. “Except one,” she said, pulling a file from the top of the stack. She opened it up and skimmed through it before sliding it across the table to Nathaniel and Claire. Claire reached out, grabbing the file to get a better look.

 

   “Me, ma’am?” Claire asked, sliding the file to Nathan.

 

   “Yes, you, Agent Barton. Coulson and I have been monitoring the two of you the last three months and we agree that you two work quite well together.” As quickly as it came, the lump in Claire’s stomach disappeared. “Seems like Romanov is the only Agent who can put up with your shit, Barton… So starting today, you two are officially partners.” Claire tried to keep the smile from curling on her lips. “Fill Romanov in on how a partnership works… _if_ you even remember,” Fury added with a pointed look at Claire. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing. “You two are dismissed.” The two of them stood and made their way to the door. “Oh, and Barton,” Fury called.

 

   “Ma’am?”

 

   “Don’t make me regret this choice.” Claire nodded in response and left the office to catch up to Nathan. Once they reached Claire’s room (officially theirs now that he was her partner), she flopped down on her bed.

 

   “So.” Claire began and she flopped down on her bed, “This is pretty cool.” Nathan nodded.

 

   “I’ll admit… I’m…relieved, that you’ll be my partner.” he admitted. Claire couldn’t help but smile as another thought hit her, feeling slightly nervous now.

 

   “Oh..uh..hey… I’ve been meaning to ask. Should I just call you Romanov or--”

 

   “I think that since we’re partners now, we can probably be a little less formal…Claire,” he cleared his throat and her heart skipped a beat. If she didn’t know any better, she would swear he was blushing.

 

   “Hey, Nathan,” she sat up and smiled at him. “Welcome, partner.” And for the first time since she had met him, he genuinely smiled back at her.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It started with an act of mercy, but built into something more.

Two Years Later  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Remind me again why they keep sending us to the Ukraine?!” Claire yelled as she turned and fired another arrow, hitting one of their pursuers square in the chest.

“Hell if I know!” Nathan answered, firing a few shots of his own, taking down two targets of his own.

“Every time we come here, something goes wrong!” She let loose another arrow, planting it in the knee of one of the men, the arrow head exploding on impact to release a trip wire, tangling several of the others feet, giving her and Nathan a better chance of escape. “Got ‘em!”

“Good! Now let’s focusing on getting to the evac point!” Nathan roared. Claire nodded in agreement and whipped out her phone.

“Next block over. Coulson will have the jet over the abandoned church,” she stated. He nodded and grabbed hold of her arm, dragging her along with him.

“Then let’s hurry. I wanna get the hell out of here,” he responded. She couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“We need a fucking vacation after this,” she stated as they rounded the corner.

“Oh yeah… But don’t hold your breath. Fury’s probably got another mission lined up as soon as we get home,” he responded.

“Ugh..Yeah… She’s such a hard ass,” she groaned. He chuckled under his breath.

“Yeah, well, she’s our boss…So we kinda have to deal with her.”

“Yeah, I know…” she said as she pulled out her phone. “Alright. Coulson’s there. Barring any more trouble…” Before she could finish, their escape route was cut off by several of their pursuers. “Oh goodie… Close quarters…” She narrowed her eyes at the men closing in on them.

“What’s the matter, Hawkeye? Scared?” he challenged, whipping out his Glocks.

“You wish, Nate,” she grinned at him as she pulled an arrow out of her quiver. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Nate?” he inquired as she pressed her back against his.

“Yup. ‘Bout time you had a nickname,” she laughed while she nocked an arrow, waiting for any of them to make a move. He rolled his eyes at her.

“You realize I’ll kick your ass later for that ‘nickname’, right?”

“Suuuure you will,” she chuckled, pulling her bow string back. As soon as one of their pursuers took a step forward, Claire let the arrow loose, smiling as it landed in the middle of the group of men. “Boom,” she said as the arrowhead exploded, releasing the smoke bomb within.  
“C’mon!” While their pursuers were coughing and hacking from the smoke, she grabbed his arm and took off, pulling him around another corner.

“Good distraction,” he said, running along the street with her. She grinned over her shoulder at him.

“I figured a distraction would be better than wasting any more ammo on these goons,” she explained. He nodded as she pulled her phone out again. “Alright. Coulson’s waiting at the church.”

“Good. I’m ready to go home,” he said. She smiled again as they approached the church, seeing Coulson and the jet waiting for them.

“Yeah, so am I.”

\-------------------------------------------

 

“It’s soooo good to be home,” Claire stated as she flopped face down on the couch in their apartment. Nathan closed the door behind him, shaking his head and chuckling at her.

“You act like we’ve been gone for years,” he said, pushing her feet off the couch so he could sit down too.

“Feels like it,”she responded, her voice muffled by the pillow. She brought her feet back up, plopping them down in his lap.

“Get your feet out of my lap, Barton,” he said, popping the back of her leg for emphasis.

“Ow! Hey!” she exclaimed, sitting up to glare at him, “what was that for?”

“I told you to move your feet,” he answered, leaning back against the couch, grinning at her.

“You’re such a brat, Nate,” she practically hissed. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Again with the nickname?” he asked. She shrugged in response.

“It’ll grow on you,” she remarked, hopping up from the couch, making a way to her bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

“To take a nap…Naaaatttteee,” she teased before sauntering off to her room. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at her, chuckling under his breath.

“While you nap, I’m gonna run out. We don’t have an ounce of booze in this place.”

“Don’t forget my beer!” she called from her room.

“I know I know. You don’t have to remind me,” he said as he stood up from the couch, going into his room and changing clothes before heading out the door.

 

A while after he left, Claire found herself unable to sleep. Not that she didn‘t want to, but she was at the point of being so tired, she wasn‘t tired at all. She slid off of her bed and padded to the bathroom, knowing a warm shower would possibly help her sleep. With him gone, she didn’t think it was necessary to close any doors while she bathed and could turn up the stereo in the living room as loud as she wanted. As usual, she sang at the top of her lungs, even when she stepped out of the shower, draping a towel around her shoulders after drying her hair with it.

Nathan walked back into the apartment, greeted by Claire’s music blaring loudly. He sighed softly to himself, and shook his head.

“How can she listen to music this loud?” he muttered to himself as he set the beer and liquor on the counter. Before he could make his way over to the stereo, Claire came out of her bedroom, hips swaying to the music and not a stitch of clothing on but the towel on her shoulders. She obviously had no idea he was standing there, staring at her.

His eyes traveled the length of her body as she danced there, singing along with the song playing. Her skin was pale, except for her arms, with scars scattered all over her. He swallowed hard as his eyes followed a bead of water down her back and over the curve of her ass. He had to take a few deep breaths when she whirled around, her eyes closed, still very into the song. The first thing he laid his eyes on was a jagged scar across her stomach. He briefly wondered who had done that to her, but that thought was banished when his eyes traveled up to her breasts. His breath caught in his throat. They, too, were scarred, but perky and her pale skin made her rosy nipples stand out even more.

He nearly let his eyes travel downward again, but the song stopped at that moment, and Claire stopped singing. Nathan took several deep breaths, trying to will his head to clear (and his pants to not be so tight) before he cleared his throat loudly. Claire whipped around, her blue eyes wide as she slipped the towel down to cover herself.

“Umm… well… Hi,” she tried to say nonchalantly.

“Hi,” his reply was short.

“Uhh… yeah… sorry… I… didn’t know you were home…”

“S’okay.”

“So… yeah. I’m gonna… go get some clothes on… I hope you enjoyed the show…” she laughed nervously then disappeared into her room. Nathan stood there for a few moments, sighing in relief that she didn’t notice his problem, then headed to his bedroom as well.

 

Claire dressed herself in a t-shirt and pair of shorts quickly, sitting herself on the edge of her bed. She flopped back on the bed, pulling a pillow over her face, groaning into it. After a while she peeled the pillow off of her head, sighing softly.

“Okay, Claire…. That wasn’t that bad,” she tried to convince herself, “you’re partners. You live together. Something like this was bound to happen eventually….right?” She glanced over at the wall separating her room from Nathan’s, her heart skipping a beat. She groaned again, pulling the pillow back over her head.

 

A couple of hours later Claire hesitantly padded out of her bedroom, swallowing hard before making her way over to Nathan’s door. She stood there for a minute, staring at it, before bringing her hand up to knock. Before she could, Nathan opened the door.

“Hey…” she said, her voice soft.

“Hey…” he responded. They stood there, that awkward silence hanging in the air. Both of them had things they wanted to say, apologies, rationalizations, but nothing was said.

“Hey… you wanna have a beer and watch a movie?” Claire asked. And with that, the tension was broken. He smiled at her and nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he responded. She smiled back at him.

“Great. I’ll get the movie in and you get the beers,” she suggested. He nodded.

“Good plan,” he grinned then made his way to the kitchen.

 

A few beers and half a movie later, the two of them were asleep on the couch, Nathan sitting upright with Claire leaning against him, as if the awkwardness of earlier had never even happened.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

One Year Later

 

The two of them practically dragged themselves into their apartment after a particularly difficult mission, both of them battered and bruised. They had turned down the offered trip to Medical, opting instead to sleep it off. Claire looked absolutely exhausted, almost ready to collapse as she headed to her room. Nathan watched her, concern showing on his face.

“Hey, Claire. You okay?” he asked, coming up behind her. She quickly turned around, a tired smile plastered on her face.

“Yeah, just exhausted. I’m gonna go ahead and hit the hay,” she said. He scanned her face while she talked, trying to discern if she was in any pain or not. Other than being a little pale, and looking tired, she seemed to be okay.

“Alright. Go get some rest,” he said, nodding to her door.

“Thanks, Nate,” she replied, laying her hand on his arm for a moment before slipping into her room. He stared at her door for a few minutes, listening for anything off-kilter, but never heard anything.

\--------------------------------

In the middle of the night, Nathan was woken up by the sound of the shower running. He groaned softly and lifted his head to look at the clock. Two am. He sat up in bed, swinging his feet off the bed. He blinked his eyes a few times to orient himself before standing up and stretching. He left his room, making his way to Claire’s room, still not fully awake. He rapped lightly on her door and waited a moment. When there was no answer he rapped again, a little louder this time, causing her door to creak open.

“Claire?” he asked, poking his head inside her room. She was nowhere in sight, but her first aid kit was open, with some bandages pulled out.. He furrowed his brow and stepped into her room, curious about the bandages. He stepped over to her table, examining what had been used from it. He frowned at the bandages laying there, and turned to leave. That’s when he glanced at her bed. And the nice sized blood stain there.

“Claire…” He quickly left her room, making his way to the bathroom, not even bothering to knock before going in. He could see her silhouette through the shower curtain. She was standing up, leaning against the wall, but not moving. “Claire?” his voice was soft as he approached the shower. She shifted slightly but didn’t respond. He took that as his cue, and practically tore open the shower curtain. There she stood, naked and shivering, with a bleeding gash on her left side. He had to take a deep breath to keep his composure when he saw that wound.

“Claire,” he said softly, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. She shifted uncomfortably when he turned her around to face him.

“Hey…” she replied weakly. Any anger he felt for her not telling him about the wound disappeared when he looked at her. She was paler than normal and looked more helpless than he had ever seen her. Without another word he leaned into the shower, turning off the water before grabbing a towel and wrapping her in it. She winced when the fabric ran over her open wound.

“I’m sorry…” he muttered as he lifted her into his arms. Normally, she would have fought against him carrying her anywhere, but she was so tired and hurt so much, she just let him carry her to her bed. When they reached her room he carefully set her down on her feet while he pulled off the bloody sheets, then picked her back up and gently laid her on her right side. He slowly peeled the towel off of her, causing her to wince slightly. “Geez, Claire…” he murmured as he examined the open wound, “maybe we should take you to Medical.” She shook her head and tried to sit up.

“No… I don’t need to go to Medical…” she protested softly. He laid his hand on her shoulder, delicately pushing her back down to the bed. “I usually take care of it myself…” she stated, pointing at the first aid kit. He nodded and walked over to the first aid kit, inspecting it better than he had before. “I would’ve done it already…but it’s hard to reach…” she explained. He rummaged in the kit for a moment, pulling out a needle and medical thread.

“You sew yourself up?” he asked, turning to look at her. She nodded.

“I don’t like Medical…” she stated. He sighed softly, placing the needle and thread back in the kit.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were so badly injured?” he inquired. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I didn’t want you to worry…” she replied quietly. He sighed as he approached the bed, bringing the med supplies with him. He sat down on the edge of her bed, pulling out the needle again.

“You sure you want me to do this?” he asked, already sanitizing the needle as he spoke.

“Yeah… I trust you,” she replied softly. He stopped threading the needle, his head whipping up to look at her. She gave him a weak smile and that clinched it for him.

“Okay…” He quickly finished threading the sterile needle, then carefully sprayed the wound with the disinfectant. She bit down on her pillow from the burn of it. “This is gonna hurt…” he warned.

“Yeah… I know…” she said and bit down on her pillow again, digging her nails into it as well to ready herself. Without another word he began his work.

As he sewed up the wound, she made no noise. Her death-like grip on her pillow was the only indication that she was in any pain. When he was finished, he set the needle aside on her nightstand and worked on bandaging her up. Her breathing finally evened out as her fingers slowly released her pillow. He leaned closer to her, gently stroking her hair to soothe her, while looking down at her mattress.

“Your mattress needs to be cleaned,” he stated, matter-of-factly. She laughed softly, looking over her shoulder at him.

“Probably,” she retorted. He laughed too.

“You’re naked,” he said. She looked down at herself.

“So I am…” she paused and looked back up at him, “mind getting me something to wear?” He nodded and stood, his hand skimming her thigh lightly, eliciting a shiver from her. He picked out a pair of shorts and a loose tank top for her. “Help me put them on?” she asked when he came back over to the bed. He nodded and sat back on the edge of the bed. Carefully he slipped on her shorts, rolling the waistband down so it didn’t rub against her wound. He helped her sit up so he could help her slip on her tank top, folding the edge up as he had done with her shorts. His fingers brushed over her bare skin again, and she shivered again.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” she replied, reaching over to lay her hand on his arm. “Thanks, Nate,” she said softly, giving him a weak lop-sided grin. He smiled back at her, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms.

“You’re welcome, Claire… But next time, come to me when you have a wound like that, okay?”

“Only if you come to me when you have one like this too,” she stated. He chuckled.

“It’s a deal then,” he said. She looked up at him, eyes slightly wide, with a smile.

“Good,” she glanced down at the blood stain on her bed, sighing softly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Would you help me to the couch? I don’t want to sleep on a blood stain...” He nodded and helped her up, keeping her steady as they walked out of her bedroom, but instead of leading her to the couch, he took her into his room. “Nate? What are you doing?”

“With that wound, you don’t need to be sleeping on the couch.”

“I am not taking your bed from you,” she argued, even as he made her sit down on his bed.

“You’re not taking it, I’m giving it to you,” he retorted with a smirk. She narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips, then tried to stand up.

“I’d rather sleep on the blood stain then take your bed from you,” she muttered. He shook his head and gently pushed her back down to the bed.

“Stay there,” he warned, then left the room. Before she could get back up, he came back in.

“What are you doing?” she asked, as he flipped the bedroom light off.

“You’re not willing to take the bed if I slept on the couch, so then we’ll just share the bed,” he said as he plopped down on the other side of the bed. She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Are you serious?” she questioned. He replied with a ‘don’t fuck with me’ look he must have perfected through the years. She sighed in defeat. “Alright. Fine. You win,” she said as she carefully laid back on the bed, laying on her right side. He grinned triumphantly and laid back as well.

“I’ll check your bandage in the morning,” he said as he flipped onto his side. She made a soft affirmative noise in response. They laid like that for a while, exhaustion from their mission slowly beginning to take them.

“Hey, Nate?” she murmured.

“Hm?”

“Thanks…For tonight,” she said softly. He reached over and patted her thigh gently.

“Anytime.”


End file.
